A Secretary's Diary
by Sandpiper
Summary: Natalie always struck me as being a very Bridget Joneslike character, so I figured she needed a diary. Includes her point of view at various times during the movie plus a few additions. Will continue based on amount of reviews.
1. Chapter 1

Monday, 20 November:

Bloody awful day today. As if splitting up with Tim after nearly three years together and, as a result, having to move back in with Mum and Dad wasn't enough my first day at Number Ten Downing Street could not have gone worse if I'd tried.

I was rather excited about starting new job It was one of the few things I still had look forward to since had just been chucked, ad was marvelous opportunity as would actually be working with the Prime Minister and important government people. Although, was also very nervous. Made a point of choosing perfect outfit last night, which I laid out neatly on a chair. Even went to bed early so as to be well rested for first day.

Discovered, however, that plan failed when woke up this morning by niece jumping on my bed screaming, "Nattie, Nattie wake up!"

Was so started that, before realizing it, I reached out and smacked her off the end. She fell to the floor and started crying. I tried to comfort her but she ran out of the room screaming "Mummy!" at the top of her lungs before I could reach her.

I flopped back down muttering about brilliance of starting day off by giving seven year old child concussion when happened to notice that bedside clock read 8:30. Must have set the fucking alarm wrong!

Was so late that had to skip shower, and instead hopped around in front of sink while trying to brush teeth, apply make up, and squeeze into stockings all that the same time. It didn't help that Tracy came upstairs half-way through to yell at me for injuring her child, and continued to follow me around complaining as I rushed around my room in a mad frenzy to finish dressing and gather up everything needed for workday.

She even followed me down to the kitchen where I went to grab muffin and cup of coffee. Mum and Dad, of course, felt the need to get involved by then too, so by the time had heard lectures about childcare from everyone in the house, given numerous apologies, and actually managed to fight my way out the front door had missed the 9:15 train. Bugger!

Raced down to the metro station and waited on platform checking watch every five seconds to see how much more late would be by the time train arrived, and staring intently at the empty tunnel willing the train to hurry up and arrive sooner. Once it finally arrived it felt like the longest ride ever to my stop.

When finally arrived at Number Ten was out of breath from fighting through crowded metro station and running the rest of the way to the correct flat. Was greeted on arrival by severe looking woman with impeccable suit and short braids who eventually introduced herself as Anne.

"You're late," she said before I had a chance to catch my breath, and walked away before I could explain. It quickly became evident that she was in charge because she began handing out orders. Luckily for me Number Ten was almost as hectic this morning as my house had been, so managed to sneak away to one of the washrooms to freshen up hair and make up. Definitely necessary too as looked quite frazzled.

At 11:30 we were all called to assemble for the Prime Minister's arrival. Felt quite shaky while standing lined up with other household staff, and was trying not to think about the possibility that when he came in I might be sick on his, no doubt very expensive, shoes.

When he came in, however, the oddest thing happened. I completely forgot how nervous I'd felt two seconds earlier. As a matter of fact the only thought that entered my mind was that he looked completely different then he does on TV, but I couldn't name how. I didn't hear what he said to the others, but Anne introduced me last since I was at the end of the line. He acknowledged me with a polite hello.

"Hello, David," I responded. The nervousness rushed back at the surprised look in his eyes.

"I mean 'sir'" I quickly corrected myself, "Shit, I can't believe I've just said that."

AHHHH!

"Oh, and now I've just gone and said 'shit'-twice," I was just completely babbling by now, "I'm so sorry, sir."

Fortunately he didn't look angry, instead he looked like he was trying not to laugh….although I'm not sure if that's better or not.

"It's fine, it's fine," he smiled, "you could've said "fuck", and then we'd have been in real trouble."

I smiled back, "Thank you, sir. I did have an awful premonition that I was going to fuck up on the first day."

My hand flew to my mouth. Now I've just said 'fuck'!

"Oh, piss-it," I muttered.

Okay apparently I'm just a complete lunatic now!

At that point Anne pulled him away to the next room before I could say something else stupid.

"It's okay," the housekeeper said gently once they were gone.

"Did you see what I just did?" I asked in a whisper, to which she gave an unfortunate nod 'yes'.

That was definitely the worst first impression ever.

The rest of the day went alright. I didn't see David again – wow, just did it again. I don't know what the problem is. It just sort of slipped out. Feels odd somehow, now that we've actually met in person, to call him "sir" or "Prime Minister". Must be very careful about that from now on, though. Even though nothing major happened, there was a lot of discrete giggling whenever I left a room today.

Lovely, have managed to convince colleagues that, not only am disrespectful and unprofessional, but also have intelligence of dust rag. Oh well, must look on the bright side…..at least I only embarrassed myself and didn't vomit on new Prime Minister as well.


	2. Chapter 2

Thursday, 30 November:

Almost through with second week of work. Things are going much better now, thank goodness. Have been very careful over the last couple weeks to try to do job extra well with little things like keeping all the messages and paperwork neatly organized, hurried up from the kitchen whenever was sent down to bring up the tea pot so that the tea would still be warm by the time I delivered it, and bringing along some extra biscuits with the tea.

Everything seems to be going fine. David is always pleasant and nice. He even remembers my name which is impressive. At my last job the boss called me "Nadine" for the first four months. I still can't help but think of him as "David" instead of "Prime Minister" or even "Mr. Aldridge". I haven't slipped up again when speaking to him though, so I suppose if it's only to myself there's no harm.

I'm taking a break now to try to search for a place to live in the newspaper listings. I swear I will never live in sin again if I ever have another relationship! Or at least I'll insist that my boyfriend move into my flat instead of me moving into his. At least that way I won't be the one who's out on my arse when he decides said arse has gotten too big!

Living back at home is really driving me mad. Yesterday Dad barged in just as I was stepping out of the shower, and, as if being seen stark naked by own father wasn't bad enough, he later brought up during dinner that one of the ladies at him and Mum seniors group had just lost a lot of weight on that new Southbeach Diet from America. My parents are not very subtle people.

Put in a call to man who was letting out a place and have appointment to go see it sometime next week. Perhaps will get lucky and find that it is perfect dream home.

Saturday, 2 December:

Decided to get started on Christmas shopping today. As I was heading out I ran Mum and Dad's neighbor from next-door. Turned out to be an old schoolmate named Mia. We spoke while on our way to the metro station. I explained that I was on way to go shopping, which she had, of course, guessed from the lists I was juggling. Turns out she was going by a friend's place to see about using his art gallery for the Christmas party she had to plan. I suggested that perhaps her work would pay off in the end and she'd meet a fabulous new man at the party.

"Perhaps," she answered with a mischievous look. Apparently, she already had someone in mind.

We parted ways after that, and I made my way over to the shops on Oxford St. After about three hours I'd found things for half the people on my list, and was starving so I decided to call it a day and go have lunch. While in check out line some of the display TV's showing David's last public appearance, which was actually a couple days ago. Check out girl and rather bimboish looking blonde in front of me were doing the standard political chatter, "what do you think of our new Prime Minister?" etc.

"You think he's that delicious in person?" the blonde asked waggling her badly plucked eyebrows.

"Don't know," the sales girl shrugged, "Although, I do bet he as nice arse."

I had to bite my knuckle to keep from laughing. Thought about telling him that the tele didn't do him justice, but decided not to. It wouldn't have even been a lie. I mean not just that he's more attractive in person. Although when I think of it he is – erm anyway, the point is that in person he's well real. Just…David.


End file.
